The Villain Family Opposes Independence (13 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 1

“Say it again.”

“Oh, miss…”

“You had no trouble chattering behind my back with that hole you call a mouth, yet now that I’m right in front of you, you clamp it shut? Are you mocking me?”

“Oh, no!”

On a dazzlingly brilliant summer day,

before me stood a line of maids trembling as if it were winter—even in the height of summer—

simply because they’d gossiped about me behind my back without realizing I was passing by.

‘If you’re going to do it, at least do it secretly.’

I’d always known the servants in the mansion looked down on me and treated me with contempt, but there was a vast difference between knowing it in my heart and hearing it with my own ears.

If I let it slide after hearing it myself, they’d openly ignore me from now on.

I narrowed my eyes fiercely and glared at the maids.

“I’ll give you a chance. Repeat exactly what you just said.”

“Th-that is…”

“You can’t? Didn’t you just say something like, ‘For a bastard, she throws her weight around like she owns the place’? Or was it, ‘She might not even be the real daughter’?”

Having just recovered from a week-long illness, this was my first outing in a while—and I was even more irritable than usual.

When the maids stubbornly kept their lips sealed and only exchanged furtive glances among themselves, my patience finally ran out.

“Kneel.”

“I’m so sorry, miss!”

“Didn’t you hear me say, ‘Kneel’?”

“We won’t do it again, we promise!”

“I said, kneel!”

Just as I moved to shove them down by force,

they—daring to resist a mere maid—flinched away from my touch and squirmed, causing me to be pushed back instead.

And in that instant—

‘—Huh?’

My body wobbled and tilted backward.

The startled faces of the maids who shrank away from me seemed to move in slow motion, and my ever-present pendant slipped weakly from my neck and fell to the ground.

Crack.

It was the exact moment my mother’s sole keepsake shattered.

In an instant, unfamiliar memories surged in like a tidal wave.

“Yoon Ga Eul.”

“You might regret this someday.”

“Take my hand!”

“You’ll die if you do that—!”

Thud! …Thump.

“…ul. Yoon Ga Eul!”

Amid the panoramic flood of memories, I couldn’t regain my senses at all.

Scenes rushed past without pause, accompanied by voices of different people.

‘What… is this?’

Yoon Ga Eul.

Alongside that name—strange yet familiar—a vivid image replayed as if I were living it now: someone desperately reaching out their hand toward me.

It must have been my memory from the brink of death.

A world entirely unlike the one I now lived in.

Though briefly disoriented, the fragments of scenes quickly found their proper places in my mind.

Only then did I realize—these were memories of my past life.

I, Yoon Ga Eul, born and raised in the Republic of Korea, had died at the young age of twenty-one and was reborn as Elodie Ferdia.

Even after grasping this truth, I sat stunned in shock, until the maids—carefully watching my reaction—tentatively approached.

“Miss! A-are you all right?”

“We didn’t do it on purpose… please, just don’t hit us!”

“You must get up quickly… please don’t act like this…”

I stared blankly at the maids, who dared not touch me and fidgeted helplessly—and suddenly, all the color drained from my face.

A single, horrifying realization had just struck me.

“…We’re ruined.”

“Huh? Our… lives?”

“We’re ruined! Absolutely ruined…!”

“Please spare us, miss! We were wrong!”

Aaagh!

I tore at my own hair in anguish, heedless of the maids surrounding me.

That’s right.

This was the world inside a novel.

And my future was already sealed in darkness!

[This is the timeline separator]

Elodie Ferdia.

Elodie, the only daughter—and illegitimate child—of the Ferdia Dukedom, was a textbook example of an infuriating, spoiled brat who threw her family’s prestige around to indulge every whim imaginable.

Because her family never cared how outrageously she behaved, her temperament grew increasingly twisted day by day.

The only silver lining was that her frail health kept her from roaming outside, so she mostly tormented only the household staff.

The novel I’d read was titled .

Was that adopted daughter me?

‘No.’

Unfortunately, the original story had a different protagonist.

Estelle Ferdia.

Adopted into the Ferdia family for political purposes, she charmed her brothers, father, and even mother with her sunshine-heroine sweetness, ultimately achieving a happy ending—the very definition of a healing romance fantasy.

In the book, Elodie was merely a minor antagonist—certainly not even a major villain—who met her demise after being caught tormenting her elder sister.

But that wasn’t the only shocking revelation.

‘So I’m not even my father’s real daughter…’

After all, the term “illegitimate child” implied sharing blood with at least one parent.

Yet Elodie was not Duke Ferdia’s biological daughter—her birth mother had pretended she was.

Sigh. Seated at the table, I rested my chin in my hand and exhaled deeply.

‘…Mother.’

Having lived without memories of my past life, I’d always resented my birth mother in my heart.

How could I possibly miss a mother who sold her own child to the father for money?

In the Ferdia household, speaking of my birth mother was taboo.

The Duke detested any mention of her.

Because of this, I’d grown up knowing nothing about my real mother.

All I knew came from secretly eavesdropping on maids whispering to each other when I was very young.

“Arcelia? That woman was unbelievably lucky. Got pregnant from one night and cashed in big time.”

“Yeah, seriously. But do you know where she went afterward?”

“How would I know? Some say she fled abroad.”

“Either way, she’s living comfortably somewhere.”

From that conversation, I only learned two things: that my mother had sold me to my father and left, and that her name was Arcelia.

The original novel didn’t delve deeply into her story either.

‘Well, it’s only natural—the protagonist is Estelle, not me.’

But the novel did mention something about my real father.

After all, one reason for my eventual death was precisely because I wasn’t Duke Ferdia’s true daughter.

“Of all the novels out there, why did I have to end up in this one?”

Though technically, since I was born into this world and only regained my memories midway, “reincarnation” fit better than “possession.”

Days had already passed since I recovered my memories, and now—on top of unexpectedly uncovering the secret of my birth—I’d been overwhelmed all at once by the flood of my past-life recollections. Understanding this situation wasn’t easy.

I’d tried denying everything as a dream, and even dreamed of my yet-unlived death as a nightmare.

But these vivid memories couldn’t possibly be delusions.

Both the life of Yoon Ga Eul in the Republic of Korea and the story from the book surfaced simultaneously in my mind.

If I stayed passive, my fate would unquestionably end in death.

‘I have to survive.’

But no matter how much I denied it, my past actions—those of a spoiled brat—could not be undone.

The novel never explained why Elodie acted so terribly, but having lived through every moment myself, I knew the reason.

My family was indifferent toward me, and the servants, noticing this, gossiped and slighted me openly.

As the sole princess of House Ferdia, I had to sharpen my claws and vent my rage outward just to get anyone to pretend to listen.

Only then could I uphold my pride as Ferdia’s princess.

Though it was a kind of self-defense mechanism in a family where no one cared for one another, that justification couldn’t absolve me.

I couldn’t go on living like this.

‘It’s time to stop acting like a spoiled brat.’

To survive, I needed to abandon my old mindset and stubbornness and learn to think ahead.

I looked down at the shattered pendant.

This pendant—supposedly left behind by my mother—had been given to me by Duke Ferdia on my fifth birthday. In a duke’s mansion where I owned nothing, it had been my one and only possession.

Naturally, one might assume a noble lady like me had some personal wealth, but sadly, I didn’t have a single coin to my name.

Reckless spending? Possible.

Luxury? Allowed.

But all of it happened only with the master’s permission—even the sale of dresses or jewelry required reporting through the steward.

In short, none of the family’s vast wealth was truly mine.

And now, even my mother’s last keepsake was shattered—I was utterly destitute.

‘I’ll need money if I want to be independent.’

I didn’t ask for much.

Just a modest little house outside the capital Somnia—bedroom, living room, bathroom.

And enough money to live comfortably and eat delicious food to my heart’s content. (Luxury wasn’t necessary—I wasn’t the old Elodie anymore.)

That should be more than enough!

‘Hmm… am I asking for too much…?’

Well, being a jobless layabout who never works is everyone’s dream!

According to the book, my true lack of blood relation to the family would only be revealed after Estelle’s adoption.

I was currently nineteen, one year shy of my coming-of-age ceremony.

Three years remained until the adoption.

My top priority was to stay quiet, save money, and achieve independence before then.

Once I’d already left the household on my own, they wouldn’t bother questioning whether I was their real daughter or not—and thus, I could avoid my death ending.

Of course, while still living here, I’d also need to actively work toward changing my fate.

‘So first…’

As I seriously pondered what to do, my personal maid Martha entered the bedroom.

“Miss. A letter has arrived.”

“Who’s it from?”

Martha beamed as she held out a tray bearing the letter.

“From His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince.”

Adenmir Presil Wilrent, First Imperial Prince.

Currently my fiancé—and the very man whose actions would later lead to Estelle’s adoption into our family.

In the novel, when the First Prince criticized Elodie’s reputation and proposed annulment, Duke Ferdia—unwilling to damage their political alliance—sought an alternative.

That alternative was adopting Estelle.

‘Did he really think an adopted daughter and an illegitimate child were the same thing?’

The engagement had originally been arranged because the past me desired it. After all, as the most likely heir to the throne, once he became emperor, no one would dare disregard me as his bride.

Moreover, the First Prince was stunningly handsome—with dazzling silver hair and deep green eyes. His striking looks and robust build perfectly matched my taste; there was no reason not to covet him.

His manner toward me had always been politely formal—the way a fiancé ought to behave—but nothing more.

Yet I hadn’t cared about such trivialities. Everyone dreamed of standing beside him, and I was no exception.

‘It truly was a difficult engagement to secure.’

But now that it had been secured, what good did it do me?

From the start, the First Prince barely liked me—and once Estelle appeared, he’d inevitably fall for her at first sight.

I had no intention of clinging to a man who disliked me.

If he was going to demand annulment over my reputation anyway, wouldn’t it be better for both of us to part ways cleanly?

Estelle wouldn’t arrive at the orphanage until a year before her adoption, so breaking off the engagement now wouldn’t make her come earlier.

Staring at the letter on the tray, I smiled faintly.

I knew exactly what I had to do.

First step:

‘Break away from my fiancé!’

[This is the timeline separator]

Somnia, capital of the Wilentia Empire.

Dominating the skyline with its towering spire visible from anywhere near the capital stood the Imperial Palace—the heart of a mighty empire.

First Prince Adenmir pushed aside his documents briefly to rest during his duties.

Though his brow was furrowed in fatigue, his appearance only gained a languid, sensual charm.

He glared irritably at the documents and muttered,

“Rodrigo Angelos again.”

Since its founding, the Wilentia Empire had been supported by four great houses:

Angelos, Severes, Krundel, and Ferdia.

Among them, Duke Angelos’s house stood out in commerce through aggressive investments—but constantly stirred up trouble, mostly driven by their own greedy desires.

‘Looks like I’ll just have to placate him with another carrot again.’

In truth, an even more troublesome house existed.

House Ferdia.

The Ferdias owned every shadowy corner of the empire—black markets, auction houses, gambling dens—and on a grander scale, supplied military goods to the imperial house and owned major mines across the realm.

With their inhumanly striking features and merciless efficiency, they were jokingly called “the villainous house” among the populace.

Thinking of them naturally brought his fiancée to mind.

No citizen of the empire was unfamiliar with Elodie Ferdia.

First and foremost was her angelically beautiful appearance.

Her hair, so pale gold it often seemed silver, and her vivid pink eyes—like spring blossoms in full bloom—formed a radiance no one could rival.

But even more famous than her looks was… Elodie’s temperament.

Despite her docile, puppy-like appearance, she spewed harsh words the moment she opened her mouth and often threw tantrums when angered.

No one dared oppose House Ferdia, so no one could ever rein her in.

‘She even insults me, a prince—to say nothing more.’

Adenmir believed one must fulfill their role diligently, regardless of personal feelings. Even if his fiancée was an empty-headed, ill-tempered woman.

Yet, once he ascended the throne and became emperor, his wife would become empress—and he seriously doubted whether she was fit for that position.

Since the Emperor’s birthday banquet was approaching soon, he’d already sent a letter asking when he might visit House Ferdia to discuss arrangements.

“It’s about time.”

Just as he murmured this, a steward entered his office.

“Your Highness. A letter has arrived.”

A letter—from Elodie Ferdia.

Knowing she fancied him, Adenmir naturally assumed it would include a suggested meeting time—and opened it expectantly.

But the contents defied all his expectations.

[Regrettably, I won’t be able to spare time for Your Highness.]

Curious, he read the next line.

[Would you please sign the enclosed document and submit it on my behalf?]

“A document?”

At this, the steward pointed to papers beneath the letter. When Adenmir unfolded them, he momentarily doubted his eyes.

Annulment papers.

Undeniably, annulment papers—bearing Elodie’s careful, unmistakable signature.

Ha. Adenmir let out a hollow laugh.

‘…What kind of trick is this now?’